Briathar
by Tomorrow
Summary: An interesting piece, narrated by Trowa, in which he reflects on dialogue and Heero and Relena's relationship (1xR).


AN: This is another revamp of a former fic, and this one was a lot of fun to redo, especially since it's one of my personal favorites. It's from Trowa's POV, just in case you have a little trouble guessing. If you read this one the first time, I think you'll enjoy it the second time around ^_^  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own Gundam Wing or the song "Kiss the Flame" by Jewel (I only use one line).  
  
  
  
Language, diction, articulation, words- They're all tools for communication, ways to inform fellow comrades and disparate adversaries of our desires whether dreamt or witnessed by the past, present, or future only. speech of common relevance or of a more personal significance. But they are also humanity's most liable implements to express abhorrence and selfish indulgence, developed by our ancestors as a primitive means of interaction. Even animals can speak. we're just unable to decipher their tongues. But they only seem to converse when necessary, for mating calls or tribal warnings. not just to do it. They seem to have better things to do than that, or maybe they're just wiser about communication than we are. Perhaps they've uncovered the simple truth that seems to elude mankind.   
  
But who am I to infer such things? I can only go on what I've experienced when it comes to speaking. A conclusion that, in and of itself, seems obvious enough. but maybe I'm just more observant than my fellow man. or syncopated with beast's intentions more than others. It's something very simple.  
  
Dialogue is a weapon.  
  
It's a mere canticle so inherent on our lips that if one should use just a sole murmur of language in verbal assault against his neighbor it could kill that latter man, eat him away more aptly than the bullet from a gun could prompt blood. A dire consequence only our race must suffer, for our idiotic dialect is forgotten by those hurt with it; for the victims are the ones that shy away from these skills altogether. They rely on physical expression instead. These people can't fight back if they don't know how or are too afraid to attempt it, so they simply remain silent, taken advantage of by those with more eloquent tongues and extroverted mannerisms. The war is an unbalanced one.  
  
And in knowing such brutal truths about speech and this so-called blessed dialogue, I chose my battlefield a long time ago, and looking back, I wouldn't have it any other way.  
  
For these reasons, these mute realities as far as I'm concerned, I must divulge how merciful the combat of flesh bruising bloodied skin is when compared to the war of tongue against conviction. How anyone can allow his blood to seep from his sinew and spatter the grass, washed away by rain and soon forgotten. This world is not a paradise, and so, as can be expected, cowardice hides itself in suicide and murder. Many men would be glad to find such a premature end from this plane. But it takes only the most audacious to lay down for censure their fame so fervently earned, the part of themselves that, once they die, could become legend and for eternity reside within the hearts of the people. Fate recorded, their souls weary from the accomplishments they risk at being so bold.  
  
A soldier is a command of duty, a body protecting another one. But to be an orator one must possess three distinct gifts, bestowed only upon a select few of our race and usually used for selfish profit more than charity: eloquence, grace, and verbal cunning.   
  
I didn't want the temptation or responsibility that came with these skills, with something we use so casually every day: dialogue. Life's complicated enough without that to cloud my judgment further. That's why I choose to say as little as possible... the less I'll kill. Artillery massacres the body, but vindictive discourse murders the soul.  
  
Thoughts, however, are a different matter entirely. My thoughts are complex, my rationality well structured, and I'm very thorough, more adequately methodical when it comes to matters of the mind. Ignorance is fatal, and the wisdom to know what to say and when to say it is prized. I should know.  
  
So going by this logic, that speech is more lethal than arms, how many people did I really kill during the war? very few, if any. And Heero- His hands drenched in crimson, mind filthy from the stench of death and blinded by so much red. very few people lost their lives by his remark. Duo probably massacred a fair amount, Quatre probably never said anything that really hurt anybody. Wufei- I know he drove stakes through a few hearts.  
  
But all things considered, the person who probably brought the greatest ruin to intrinsic humanity or resurrected the most souls from personal damnation would have to be the former Dove of Pacifism herself: Relena Peacecraft. Her diplomacy and arbitrary proposals, assumed as slander by those who opposed her, brought back some wanderers as they were only abandoned by life. Her words gave these lost men and women hope, a common North Star to guide them back. But I'm sure they also laid to rest the demagogues and their subordinates who only lived for power itself; they died at her hand in vain... in their own eyes, anyway.   
  
But what they interpret and what I see are two entirely different things, for although these "departed" tyrants view her as the murderer, most of those "deaths" were needed to achieve peace. And therefore her endless slaughters of opinions were not to be despised, but instead consecration at her inspired tongue. For this "carnage" no one can convict her of spiteful gain, because she "killed" at the expense of her own reputation.  
  
True selflessness is laying one's life on the line for another... which is what she did without protest. She's the proverbial angel of the battlefield, and while I and the others contribute our blood, sweat, and even tears on some occasions, she lets the politicians eat away at her soul; lets the tabloids slander her name. allows them to place her on a pedestal, create for her a whole different person than the young princess who wishes to find peace and love. They make her magnificent as Vice Foreign Minister and Queen. And she endures it all.  
  
This sudden admiration for her came as a result of hearing her "Transition" trilogy of addresses-as she later called the three speeches-following the Mariemaia Coup. And as she spouted from her lips these verbose compositions, constructed so well and undoubtedly sincere, the equivocal message behind the obvious theme made me contemplate just how much influence over humanity this girl really possessed. Hearing her was addicting, and she was, I have to say, very pleasing to look at with her cheeks flushed from nerves and eyes aflame with intensity.  
  
I've considered calling Heero's claim on Relena-unvoiced claim, that is. Unlike my fellow pilot, I'm not the least bit hesitant to approach her about my feelings. Honesty is crucial in life even if others try to persuade man otherwise. They're merely fooling themselves. But I have too much respect for his abilities and empathize with his past too duly to go through with it. Besides, she only sees him that way. Even if she did leave him for me her heart wouldn't be in it. Her will would belong to me, but more vexing, her soul would remain entwined with his, stroking each other with the call of a name and caressing with once innocent thoughts and dreams.   
  
I refuse to be cheated on, especially when it would be unintentional on both of their parts, and I'd be powerless to stop it. I can't stop either of them from feeling, even with my own emotions.  
  
But both she and Heero deserve a chance at their happiness with all they've sacrificed and been though together. Who am I to deny them that?  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The other pilots and myself found that our talents were not altogether obsolete in this new era of armistice, for although peace had been attained, this fragile reconciliation between the Colonies and Earth Sphere still had to be maintained. Humanity itself still tempered by the warmth of its own blood and thrill of battle, soon a temptation that it would refuse to deny further, if not for a select few that enforced man's strive for amity. And our military credentials ratified us the most qualified candidates for the position-and our intimate connections with Relena didn't hinder our resumes either, I'd guess.  
  
So we accepted ranks in the Preventors, protecting peace rather than fighting for it, and our primary duty was to act as personal bodyguards to the Vice Foreign Minister herself, publicized keeper of coalition. We were merely to stay in the background. shadows guarding the light that once sired them, always vigilant but never touching her beloved glow as it illumined all others it caressed. Beautiful and full of hope, a welcomed citadel for weary men as we were. But it should never grace us, not in public, anyway.   
  
I would say that the exclusive assignment was mostly Heero's persuasion, because the day before we were hired on he spent some time in Lady Une's office, leaving from his meeting somewhat satisfied it seemed. more knowledgeable of the situation than the rest of us-since he wasn't in the least surprised by the mission parameters. more aptly described as relieved.   
  
But on one particular evening, after we'd taken our place in the audience to listen to her dedication, an address that concerned the men and women left unaccounted for after the war's curtail, the former princess stepped onto the stage seeming a bit more nervous than usual. I could see her hands shaking as she shuffled her papers at the podium, watched as she licked her lips absently before running her fingers through her golden hair that hung in a limp pony-tail down her back, amber falls bathing her cream-colored blazer. Cerulean eyes refusing to meet our portion of the auditorium, for when they did her cheeks grew slightly warm; soft rose on pale skin. But I'm sure that went unnoticed by anyone but ourselves.  
  
And this apprehension didn't affect the deliverance of her speech.   
  
The discourse progressed smoothly, Relena as persuasive and demanding with her projection as she had always been, stance firm and hands clutching the podium when her voice inflected. But as her speech came to a close, I couldn't help but find a double meaning to the words that parted from her lips and unto the ears of the gallery before her, a hidden message that should have been easy enough to decrypt if one bothered to.  
  
"... We must never forget the devotion which those who have so willingly given their lives for this peace have sacrificed and shown for us, without asking any sort of compensation for their forfeiture or veneration in return. Many were born alone, orphaned or were sired as such when children with no other choice but to fight if they wanted to survive, and many of these same people died alone. on the blood-stricken battlefields. No personal tears shed for them. Feeling as if their lives were not accomplished or even worth another's sorrow. Their lives meant nothing, were nothing, and their deaths would be regarded by society as an obligation... something they were bound to surrender for those with more 'normal' lives than they.  
  
"But even if such a presumption were true, that they were destined from their births to be reduced to abandonment, to lose the most precious gift given to us: life itself- How can we forget the lesson they branded on our hearts? How can we forget the pain they withheld so we wouldn't have to fight and share their same demise?  
  
"Doesn't it make you feel the least bit guilty or saddened to know that as children they were stripped of their feeling, naked for physical pain to devour their emotional tribulation? They were afflicted with such gruesome pestilence of the mind from the horrors they'd done and atrocities they witnessed that it wasn't love, affection, or even respect that guided their decisions- But that very pain, that very anguish they were experiencing became their sole companion that would lead them as oppressive yet familiar stranger through this past-becoming so much their only friend that pain was the only thing they came to trust as the drudgery carried on. It was constant. Reliable. Something they could depend on. They became so receptive to it that they masked all other sentiments with that same pain, turning to intrapersonal penance to keep them in control of the only thing that was theirs and theirs alone... their emotions.  
  
"We can never begin to understand the sacrifice they've made or the shields they've erected to keep the past what it is: a memory. But we can be sure to remember the individual heroism and awful love they've shown us beyond the seven established virtues, in this painting of man's most shameful deference: the refutation of supremacy.   
  
"Thank you."  
  
She finished with a slight bow, glancing once over to Heero before quickly turning her head and exiting from the conference, almost as if she were ashamed of something. most likely of something she said.   
  
And as was the common gesture of the hall, Quatre, Duo, and Wufei rose from their seats to chase after her, as was their duty. yet Heero stayed behind, glaring as he stood over my body still resting in my chair, hands set stoically at his sides as he set to warn me. Shoulders tense.  
  
"She's mine."   
  
He watched me intently for a response, but I didn't dare give him the satisfaction. I wouldn't make this easy for him. he hadn't made it easy on her.  
  
So we stayed like that for a few minutes, just staring at each other, his eyes challenging me as mine remained impassive. Tumultuous Prussian boring through dispassionate green. He waiting and I anticipating.  
  
It's when his fists began to tremble ever slightly from his growing impatience that I thought it best to give my answer, if I valued my body intact, anyway. And thus I rose from my chair, brought one foot behind the other and extended my arms as I bowed in performance fashion to his demand, conceding her hand to my rival. No fight. No enmity. Just relinquishment.   
  
It was best for all parties involved that way. I would give him a chance. One. and then it would be my turn. But for all intensive purposes, I hoped that I would never be given that opportunity. My aim was more to intimidate Heero into commitment or confession more than actually steal Relena's heart.  
  
Not that I wasn't tempted.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
There had been some sort of clerical error at the hotel the other pilots, the Vice Foreign Minister, and I were staying at while she delivered these addresses, and as a result Duo and Wufei were forced to share a room while Quatre and Heero were to cohabit another. The bottom line: the hotel was booked solid and I was left without one at all. As an apology the manager reserved a room for me at the hotel just across the street in one of the imperial suites, and so I stayed there for the night. The room was extravagant and the service was moderate, so I was reasonably satisfied with the arrangement.  
  
But it's what I witnessed the next morning that made the inconvenience so ironically beneficial.  
  
I had just left my room to go to the desk and return the keycard when out of the suite only three doors down appeared Relena-her walk. hips swaying in a hypnotic, sensual rhythm and breath that left her lips as seductive as the siren's song, so I perceived. saunter as seldom with licentious carriage, more than I'd known previously; her tresses loose down her back and shoulders as I so rarely saw them, shimmering golden threads spun from her crown as revered halo to don; calm expression in her light blue eyes.  
  
She'd had sex.  
  
And it didn't take a person with any great deal of intelligence to figure out the identity of her lover, for on her shoulders rested a Preventors jacket-with Heero's name stitched on the upper left pocket in yellow letters. a bit conspicuous for this particular mission of his, fortunate for me.  
  
I'd lost my chance. That was clear from how sated she seemed that morning, a blissful sigh parting as she traced her fingers over her lips still swollen, let her palm graze the circle of reddened flesh on her collarbone where his mouth had once fondled her. But that was what I wanted, for them to find each other or at least come to terms with what they felt. Still, I sometimes fantasize what it would have been like to be the one to love her, to make her cry out and scream my name in heated pleas as we caressed, to gather that lust around her each morning after we made love. I'm a bit resentful of Heero for that.  
  
But apparently I wasn't the one that was supposed to receive or give that satisfaction. her eyes told the story. no words necessary.   
  
However, their rendezvous only confirmed my suspicions about her somewhat ambiguous lecture, for the two met each other at an alleged time in that hotel room as I thought the last sentence of her oration told. And when Duo confronted Heero about his absence as well as Relena's that evening, the Japanese stated that they were simply meeting to discuss security measures and a few of the threats that had been voiced against her.  
  
Of course.  
  
Needless to say, neither Duo nor myself bought that excuse, and I think Quatre only believed him for honor's sake and out of not wanting to consider the most probable reason. Wufei didn't seem to care either way except for the fact that he was uniformed about their leave and therefore called on a search for the Vice Foreign Minister the following morning before she and Heero returned. He was pissed. And he started rambling on about injustice as he normally did when Relena went missing and came back with that innocent look on her face, like she'd done nothing wrong by disappearing and not telling anyone. She could be so manipulative when she wanted to. And not even Wufei could entirely dismiss that look. But that's not what I was getting at.   
  
As I said before, from the verbiage and so carefully chosen diction she used in her address it was almost too obvious to infer that they met for a more romantic intention, as my eyes that next morning verified. Besides, Heero was in a much better mood that morning, as much as one could tell when it came to Heero's emotional welfare, and such a change in his disposition could only be the result of good sex. or maybe a first experience of intercourse. I'm still unsure about that, and it's not really my place to know.  
  
He'd met her at 7:00 that evening, just as she referred to in her discourse of the "seven virtues," and the abode at which their rendezvous was consecrated was the Canvas Plaza... which coincides slightly with the allusion of "the painting of man's most shameful deference." Now, this time and place concurring with the imagery mentioned in her speech could have been mere coincidence. possibly. But because of the evidence that presented itself so blatantly otherwise, I'd have to put my money on the assumption that the prose was more than likely recited that way for the previous reason: romantic inferences. Very clever, but also extremely risky if the wrong person broke their code. like the paparazzi, for example.   
  
And endorsing my conclusion even further was the thesis of the speech she delivered that morning, causing me to cede her an even greater amount of my esteem as she drove claims with solid controversies down the throats of the ESUN delegates. They drank in her proposals without any guess as to what her words really spoke of. Aristocratic sheep following their shepherdess blindly.  
  
"When I had agreed to take the position as Chief Representative of the Romafeller Foundation, I addressed the assembly with the proposal of a unified world nation in order to embark on a potential road to peace comprised of pacifism, and now I would like to take this opportunity to express my grief for advising such an outrageous idea.   
  
"Over these past few months, I have come to realize that my views of obtaining peace through total pacifism were both irrational and at the cost of many people's dignity, and for this I feel I must apologize unreservedly for my err. I had said that it only takes two to start a conflict and just one of those two parties to enact a solution, but that logic is partially flawed; for I forgot to take into account the individual temperaments of these two sides.   
  
"Each and every one of us has our own exclusive gifts and contributions to offer mankind, and to inhibit just one person's talents because they may be moderately subjective is a crime we can't afford to arrest. Our bodies are composed of hundreds of bones, nerves, and trillions of cells; but just one part of this grand structure being separated from the initial flesh can cause infamy for that frame.   
  
"Consider my next words carefully, fellow diplomats, for although the example may be somewhat exaggerated, the principle holds true. For even if just one of your fingers is amputated from your hand, people will most probably notice and think twice about you, perhaps whisper amongst each other about the unfortunate removal, and you'll be considered 'different' from others because you're not exactly like everyone else. Maybe even unattractive, a most vain but real accusation. Just losing one finger isn't lethal or really a handicap to our daily routines, but it's still a defect, since before it was inflicted you were whole... you were similar to the rest of the population.   
  
"So why should we look upon people any differently? A man may be silent, not a very good companion for the lonely... but he can listen, and for someone in need of guidance such a person would come as a blessing. Or a man can be callous, blunt, noble to the core with little passion for anything life can give; and for someone with a high sense of integrity himself this man may appear useless. But for someone once living in caprice, this man can show her reality, bring her from fantasy and back unto the plane that holds brutal truths. And she becomes all the better leader and counselor for it.  
  
"We must accept and yield to each other's characters and gifts, for one day that silent man may be your ear, and that impassive stranger may become your brother. As I was told once as a child: 'Kiss the flame, run with the hunter, the untamed; and embrace the faceless... the unnamed...'"  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
She called each of us to open our arms to one another and their faults, to christen every being that has ever walked upon the Earth and dwelled in space as beautiful... no matter who that person may be. A very righteous message, to say the least.  
  
Still, I can't help but chuckle to myself when I think back on that clever, final line of her introduction: flame, hunter, untamed, faceless, unnamed- Every word and adjective that she used was a perfect parallel to Heero, and yet it's applicable to any person begotten in man's hostility. She mentioned the silent man, the blunt man, the noble... the callous-All of these a depiction of 01's pilot and yet traits we all share within ourselves. Pride makes us cold and quiet, brusque with our words and actions... hubris forever our intrapersonal rival.  
  
Heero was a bit smug when she reached that line, closing his eyes and crossing his arms in front of his chest with a slight tugging at his lips, but other than myself I don't think any of other pilots noticed. He was always very careful about concealing his feelings, and I guess the only reason I can pick up on these few quirks is because I'm much the same way. Great minds think alike, supposedly. I guess that means we're great minds, and if that's the case then the world and Colonies are pitiful breeding grounds.  
  
But of more significance, on the day she gave her last discourse in her trilogy, I couldn't help but sit there and ask myself how she could be so treacherous and yet so faithful to humanity at the same time, for her betrayal was only beneficial to her audience and to the man, the lover, that it was always intended for.  
  
Damn him. Damn his advice to me that day at the circus, to always "follow my emotions." If not for that, I could be the one screwing her instead of him. I wouldn't feel so guilty about wanting her.   
  
"... Courage. Wisdom. Corruption. Each of these motives represents the various elements in the cycle of a politician's career, and I've come before you today to announce that I have reached the final stage of corruption; and after this address, I am to officially resign as the Vice Foreign Minister.  
  
"When I was only fourteen, on the day before my fifteenth birthday, I encountered a boy washed up on the shore of a local beach, the wild look in his eyes so intense and filled with a perseverance I had never known. even though I saw those eyes only for a moment. And when he refused my help and left me there alone, I became determined to find out about this man... what ignited such feral passion in his depths.   
  
"Many people questioned me as to why I would pursue such a dangerous person, and the only answer I could give them was the fact that when I was close to him, but a breath away, I could feel the undying strength that coursed through his veins as it seeped through my flesh and into my soul... giving me that same audacity to follow my dreams.  
  
"I became the princess of a kingdom and took charge of its citizens. It was then that I found courage.  
  
"Later I took upon my shoulders the burden of total pacifism, convincing other delegates to take on my opinions and end the slaughter and ruthless massacres with reason. I became the target of the Romafeller Foundation because of my influence, and both the Earth and Colonies were voluntarily taking steps upon the corridor of amity.  
  
"Wisdom was my companion then.  
  
"But now I have found myself distracted from my responsibilities by the call of intimacy, and an indulgence in love and relationship has taken its place in my personal obligation rather than the welfare of the people. And for me to take advantage of you like that isn't fair... not to anyone. Seduction became my ally; I gave him entrance to my soul, let him lay his cheek upon my breast and kiss me with his dire. It was wonderful to be free for those few moments, to be a young woman in love and normal without burdens such as the ones I bear. But still, my pleasure is your pain, for people need leadership and guidance from their own ignorance. And sadly, you always thought of me as that sovereign. A wisdom I do not and will never possess.  
  
"I'm not immune to love and feelings, but susceptible as all other men and women; and it's such a vulnerability I have come to acknowledge and respect. If not for love, then where would compassion stem?   
  
"This is where corruption originates.  
  
"I'm sorry, but I feel it's only right for me to leave you to someone who has not already succumbed to these emotions entirely. And therefore an election will be held for the office of Vice Foreign Minister immediately following this address."  
  
I looked over to Heero who sat beside me, and as she recited such a commendable address I could see his lips pulling into a smirk, satisfied with her decision. This man once fettered himself seemed pleased with the chains she had now broken and the hands that could caress him freely. Obligation sacrificed for beautiful romance... blasphemy for their love.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
She did as promised: officially resigned from office immediately following the speech, and I had never seen her so relaxed since I'd made acquaintance with her.  
  
After answering a few questions from the press and giving a few final embraces to the elder politicians, she disappeared amidst the barrage of occupants, suspiciously at the same time Heero vanished from the Preventors unit.   
  
To this day I still haven't found any traces of Heero Yuy or Relena Darlian, though I have been searching. For all records of their lives have been completely erased, so to the memories of future generations they shall never have existed, these two legendary warriors for peace and destined lovers are merely names with soon forgotten faces by all but myself, Duo, Quatre, and Wufei.  
  
They can finally live their lives together, no longer victims of shadowed fate.   
  
I wish I could at least find Relena, though, because I would like to point out one mistake in her logic: she wasn't selfish for loving, for if she were she wouldn't have resigned for the good of both the people and the peace won. Her love may always be with Heero, but her devotion is eternally with the peace they created together. It is their common bond.  
  
One that with her I could never share, for my role in obtaining peace was not the same as his. He was a leader, as she was. I was the follower.  
  
We recite professions of faith during worship, we proclaim vows to our eternal mates when we place the golden circle of our love around their fingers, and we reprimand our children so that they may grow and learn to lead lives neither rueful nor selfish. Wars that leave in their wake blood and sibling pain come and go, but the verbal battlefield will never end... a timeless struggle for a more vindictive word.  
  
*Briathar: Gaelic word for... word 


End file.
